In Greece there lies a grassy hillside fair
that I climb seeking out some solitude.
I lay on greening slopes and look at where
mediterranean ships dance my mood.
Atop the crest an ancient church crumbles
It behind, I ponder mortality
Approaching Storm precurses with rumbles
rain pressing color on a slate-gray sea.
Heedless of Storm, I sleep in the open.
A chill to the bone awakens my mind
to images of the foibles of men
and foolish aspirations of mankind.
Nature, in the end, provides no meaning
but surrounds the world where we lie dreaming.
